Law school trains you to win. Every class, every case brief, every moot court — it’s about identifying weaknesses, exploiting ambiguities, and proving your side superior. You leave thinking persuasion is a game of leverage: find the flaw, make the point, take the win.

Coaching teaches you the opposite. On the court, the goal isn’t to be right; it’s to get the team moving in the same direction. It’s not about exposing mistakes — it’s about building alignment. You learn to calibrate, to listen, to choose when to push and when to let a player find their own solution.

The contrast is stark but illuminating. Lawyers are trained to win debates. Coaches are trained to win outcomes. Leadership sits squarely at the intersection: you can’t always win every argument, but you must get the team — or organization — to move as one.

In practice, this means:

  • Timing over correctness. Pointing out a flaw at the wrong moment can destroy trust, even if you’re objectively right.
  • Energy over ego. Winning the argument rarely translates to better execution. Winning engagement does.
  • Systems over style. Individual brilliance is useless without collective coordination.

In coaching, I’ve seen brilliant athletes derail because someone on the sidelines wanted to “win” a debate instead of helping the team flow. In corporate or organizational life, the same dynamic unfolds every day: meetings spent proving points rather than aligning teams, emails drafted to outshine colleagues rather than drive results, decisions stalled while personalities clash.

The lesson is simple but counterintuitive: mastery isn’t about arguing better. It’s about orchestrating alignment. Knowing when to speak, when to listen, and when to stay silent is far more powerful than being right.

Law taught me the art of persuasion. Coaching taught me the discipline of timing, empathy, and orchestration. Leadership — in any arena — requires both.